Dinghy Sailing Across Europe - Yes, Across: How Travel is a Spiritual Practice

It was absolutely POURING down rain yesterday. It was the kind of day to stay inside by the stove and drink coffee - but as it turns out, I was out and about. Yet that didn't keep me from thinking about summer plans, mind you they were more of the day dream type than any formal preparations. So, it was some surprise to hear on the CBC that the Maritime Providences are soon to open their reservation books for the 2016 summer camp sites. Maybe I'm not so far off.

What really has me thinking about things for a future some day are three events, or maybe I should say an experience of some friends of ours and three books. Last July two couples we know flew to France with their bikes and set about a self-guided bike tour of France. They had a marvelous time! When they got back, I recall pondering if there was a way to ship/fly/take/get an open boat (a sail and oar boat) to a foreign country with you, much like our friends did with their bikes. Then one could explore the coast or try for the canals and rivers, etc.

Now for the books.
The Unlikely Voyage of Jack de Crow by A J "Sandy" Mackinnon relates how Mackinnon found himself sailing from Wales to the Black Sea in his mirror dinghy, Jack de Crow. I started reading this delightful book over Christmas Break and am now almost done with it. (It's a fast enjoyable read, I've just been interrupted by other equally pleasant things).
With his self-depreciating  sense of humor, Mackinnon relates sailing and rowing on the canals of Europe. This doesn't sound unfathomable, and I've known about the canals for some time. I've just never thought about doing this sort of thing in a dinghy before, not that I think I would plan to go in a Mirror, mind.
But what really struck me - and is really the subtopic of this posting - is that he continues to encounter hospitality all along the way.
In essence, people bend over backwards to help him. And mind you, he's traveling through Serbia and Croatia in 1998! The people are rather annoyed (to put it mildly) that Great Britain and the United States have put an embargo upon them. This embargo has meant that they have gone from feeling proud and prosperous as a people, to being poor and feeling dejected and angry. Yet, even here, people help this traveler sailing and rowing a small boat flying a Union Jack.

This reminds me of the second book: Travels with Willey: Adventure Cyclist, byWillie Weir. This was one of the books our bicycling friends happened to have on their coffee table. It looked interesting and I picked it up. A delightful collection of stories/adventures Weir has had upon the road. (See I do read something that don't have to do with the sea and sailing!)
One of the points Weir makes is that people all over the world are friendly, hospitable and eager to get to know others - especially those traveling through. He makes a point of showing how traveling by bike opens doors, where traveling by car, for instance, does not. Having made an physical effort to get somewhere, you are more openly received.

Both of these books are reminders that when we are open to traveling in a way that allows us to be dependent upon others - especially those we encounter - not only does travel remain a spiritual practice (a walking/rowing/sailing/peddling prayer) - but in a sense a political statement as well. For instance, Mackinnon sees first hand how the Croatians and Serbians feel about one another, hears the long history of the people, sees the differences between those in power and the majority who are not in power. Weir relates similar experiences traveling through the countries of Central America. A traveler who interacts with the local population, I believe, cannot but come away with a greater understanding of who others are and how they live. In our world, I cannot think of a more needed practice.

The third book (The Dinghy Cruising Companion by Roger Barnes) might be summed up as a "how to guide" for the open boat / sail and oar crowd. I really should write a separate posting on this and a couple other books in the future. For now I'll just mention that Barnes points out that you don't have to have a large boat to get out and enjoy the water. In fact, I could hear him arguing that a smaller trailer-able boat might just get you into places those with keels cannot go.  He also shows how it doesn't need to be uncomfortable either.

Let me close by encouraging us all to prepare to make explorations out into the wider world - God's First Book. While we do so, may we always be open to the working of the Spirit, seeing with the eyes of our souls.

Blessed be,

Joel

Happy MLK, Jr. Day

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

How are you celebrating? Listening to a sermon/speech? Participating in a march? The work continues and goes on, is ongoing. The Beloved Community is all around us and on-going, ever more expanding. How are you making a difference?

These are questions I find myself asking myself today.

In the process I thought I would share to links to two different articles. In the first, we find a man who has been impacted by King's presence and witness. Rev. Gil Caldwell reflects upon what King's life meant for himself, and how he has continued to witness for justice through his active ministry. The second article is about some cruisers making a difference in the lives of some orphans.

May both of these articles inspire us to bare witness in our own lives in our own ways. May we together continue to impact the world.

Blessed Be,

Joel

How Much Money Does One Really Need?

I guess only each of us (sometimes with the conversation of a partner) can answer this for ourselves. But what got me thinking about this question was seeing the Power Ball figures on a gas station reader-board early last week for 680 Million dollars, which was updated a few hours later to 700 million, and now stands somewhere in the neighborhood of 1.3 billion dollars. My chances of winning are slim-to-none, more on the "none" side as we haven't bought a ticket. If you've bought one, your chances are more on the "slim" side (see the rule of probability). Now, I must say that Power Ball does have a bit of a soft spot in my wife's and my heart. This was one of the first words our son read himself. We were at a gas station and he asked, "What does P L A Y P O W E R B A L L spell? No wait, I want to figure it out?" A pause. "What does Play Power Ball mean?"

Before the figures jumped I was struck by the sheer amount of money. I started to play the "If I won game" (which was fairly save, as I wasn't planning on buying a ticket - still haven't). How much money would I need to be "financially independent" (what-ever that actually means)? Then what would I do with the rest? Give it away. But how and to whom? I'd keep working, because I like what I'm doing, so that wouldn't really change. It just seemed like more and more of a head-ache to me.

But seriously, how much money does one need to live abundantly? Actually, isn't living abundantly more an attitude than having any sort of money?

Maybe, I'm asking something like, "How much money does it cost to cruise?"

In the Sept/Oct issue of WoodenBoat Magazine, Bruce Halabisky writes about the completion of their 10 year circumnavigation on VIXEN (34' John Atkin designed gaff-cutter). The title gives away their philosophy: "A Sound Boat and Simple Living: Reflections on 10 years of voyaging in a traditional wooden boat." As Halabisky writes, "In today's world of cruising boats, VIXEN - a 34' plank-on-frame gaffer - is an anomaly (some might even say an absurdity!) but in explaining this element of our successful voyaging life I will go out on a limb and say that she was the ideal boat for the journey. First, it must be explained that although VIXEN was launched in 1952, she had a major rebuild during the 1990's; by the time I bought her in 2002 she could have been considered a new boat. ..." (63,64).
But what is intriguing is that Halabisky and his wife Tiffany talk about their budgets over the 10 year period. Because they have kept the boat simple, they have kept their overhead low. "Our simple life with low overhead allowed for lots of time to sail and explore.In fact, Tiffany and I have felt spoiled with free time ever since our departure from Victoria [Canada]. In 2009, for example, we spent one month in Thailand, one month in Malaysia, two months in Indonesia, a few weeks in Chagos archipelago, three months in Madagascar, and two months in South Africa - and that kind of diverse extended travel has been fairly typical year after year" (67). ... "And here is the amazing thing: When Tiffany added up our costs for 2009, as an example, our total expenses were just under $10,000. That's for the whole year, for the three of us, and includes all the boat expenses (Seffa Jane [their 2nd child] had not yet arrived). Of that $10,000, $2,000 when into maintaining VIXEN and the bulk of the remainder was spent on food" (71).

     During our voyage, our annual budget has consistently been between $10,000 and $12,000, with a couple of years costing close to $20,000. Usually, we can earn this by working about two months every year and occasionally as many as four or five months.
     It didn't feel like a pauper's budget while we were living on it, but by North American standards it most certainly was. In fact, most people don't believe our numbers. But consider for a moment a lifestyle with no monthly bills - no mortgage, no car payments (no car!), and in fact no debt at all. And don't forget having no phone, no Internet, and no TV bills, and one can begin to understand how the majority of every dollar we earn goes into maintaining VIXEN and buying food. (71-72).

Working along the way, with a sound but simple boat and adventuresome crew allowed them to sail around the word - to see and experience how people really live. They didn't need to win the Power Ball. In fact, if they had, I imagine their voyage would have been very different.

Below is the video shown and the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival this year, celebrating their return to the North American Pacific Northwest. Enjoy.

Again, living abundantly is a matter of choice, of vision, of perspective. Dare we look at the world around us with eyes expectant for God's grace to appear? Dare we believe that we are God's beloved?

Blessed be,

Joel



Vixen's Voyage from Nicole Halabisky on Vimeo.

Another Poem for the Christmas Season - Epiphany: The Three Kings

The Three Kings
Muriel Spark

Where do we go from here?
We left our country,
Bore gifts,
Followed a star.
We were questioned.
We answered.
We reached our objective.
We enjoyed the trip.
Then we came back by a different way.
And now the people are demonstrating in the streets.
They say they don't need the Kings any more.
They did very well in our absence.
Everything was all right without us.
They are out on the streets with placards:
Wise Men? What's wise about them?
There are plenty of Wise Men,
And who needs them? - and so on.

Perhaps they will be better off without us,
But where do we go from here?

[Found in Keillor, Garrison. Good Poems for Hard Times. Penguin. 2005. 216]

Another Poem for the Christmas Season: Monks of St. John File in for Prayer

The Monks of St. John's File in for Prayer
Kilian McDonnell

In we shuffle, hooded amplitudes,
scapulared brooms, a stray earring, skin-heads
and flowing locks, blind in one eye,
hooked-nosed, handsome as a prince
(and he knows it), a five-thumbed organist,
an acolyte who sings in quarter tones,
one slightly swollen keeper of the bees,
the carpenter minus a finger here or there,
our pre-senile writing deathless verse,
a stranded sailor, a Cassian scholar,
the artist suffering the visually
illiterate and indignities unnamed,
two determined liturgists. In a word,
eager purity and weary virtue.
Last of all, the Lord Abbot, early old
(shepherding the saints is like herding cats).
These chariots and steeds of Isreal
make a black progress into church.
A rumble of monks bows low and offers praise
to the High God of Gods who is faithful forever.

[Found in Keillor, Garrison. Good Poems for Hard Times. Penguin. 2005. 6.]

Another Poem for the Christmas Season: Where Does the Temple Begin

Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?
Mary Oliver

There are things you can't reach. But
you can reach out to them, and all day long.

The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of God.

And it can keep you busy as anything else, and happier.

The snake slides away; the fish jumps, like a little lily,
out of the water and back in; the goldfinches sing
     from the unreachable top of the tree.

I look; morning to night I am never done with looking.

Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
     as though with your arms open.

And thinking: maybe something will come, some
     shining coil of wind,
     or a few leaves from any old tree --
          they are all in this too.

And now I will tell you the truth.
Everything in the world
comes.

At least, closer.

And, ordially.

Like the nibbling, tinsel-eyed fish; the unlooping snake.
Like goldfinches, little dolls of gold
fluttering around the corner of the sky

of God, the blue air.



[Oliver, Mary. Why I Wake Early. Beacon Press, 2004. 8]

Another Poem for the Christmas Season: Hummingbird Annunciation

Hummingbird Annunciation
Robert Cording

It's no wonder Gabriel appears
At my elbow, flashing his ruby throat, levitating,
And holding steady a foot or so
From a blooming orange azalea. It's not me
He wants but those trumpeting petals.

Earlier this morning, I looked at a book
Of annunciation paintings, the curve
Of Mary's body finding a graceful equipoise
Between the fear and acceptance as she holds herself
Open to the awful wonder of an angel.

Who tells her the good news
And also that her child's silent partner
Will be death. Perhaps all annunciations
Involve the infernal terms living asks of us all.
My dear friend must decide today

Whether her husband of forty years should be
Removed from life support. She gave herself
To the next thing that needed doing
When her husband's slow, terrible dying
Became unredeemable. And me?

I've often shrunk the world to my desire
That everything will be all right,
A crude defense meant to exclude whatever
Is uncontrollable. I turn away, afraid to be
Empty enough for something to enter.

Except perhaps something as small
As this tiny whirlwind, this sheen
Of emerald and ruby darting in and out
Of blooms, buzzing at my elbow as if with news
I can choose or not choose to hear.

Cording, Robert. Common Life. CavanKerry Press, 2006. 23-4]

Another Poem for the Christmas Season: Where Water Comes Together

Where Water Comes Together with Other Water
Raymond Carver

I love creeks and the music they make.
And rills, in glades and meadows, before
they have a chance to become creeks.
I may even love them best of all
for their secrecy. I almost forgot
to say something about the source!
Can anything be more wonderful than a spring?
But the big streams have my heart too.
And the places streams flow into rivers.
The open mouths of rivers where they join the sea.
The places where water comes together
with other water. Those places stand out
in my mind like holy places.
But those coastal rivers!
I love them the way some men love horses
or glamorous women. I have a thing
for this cold swift water.
Just looking at it makes my blood run
and my skin tingle. I could sit
and watch these rivers for hours.
Not one of them like any other.
I'm 45 years old today.
Would anyone believe it if I said
I was once 35?
My heart empty and sere at 35!
Five more years had to pass
before it began to flow again.
I'll take all the time I please this afternoon
before leaving my place alongside this river.
It pleases me, loving rivers.
Loving them all the way back
to their source.
Loving everything that increases me.

Carver, Raymond. All of Us. Vintage Contemporaries, 1996. 63-4.

Another Poem for the Chrismas Season: Mosaic of the Navitity

Mosaic of the Nativity: Serbia, Winter 1993
Jane Kenyon

On the domed ceiling God
is thinking:
I made them my joy,
and everything else I created
I made to bless them.
But see what they do!
I know their hearts and arguments:

"We're descended from
Cain. Evil is nothing new,
so what does it matter now
if we shell the infirmary,
and the well where the fearful
and rash alike must
come for water?"

God thinks Mary into being.
Suspended at the apogee
of the golden dome,
she curls in a brown pod,
and inside her the mind
of Christ, cloaked in blood,
lodges and begins to grow.

Jane Kenyon. Otherwise. Graywolf Press. 1996, 4.